


What I would give for my mind to work

by IndulgentDiscourse



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Team as Family, broganes, dont mind me I'm just projecting onto this character here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-10-21 00:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndulgentDiscourse/pseuds/IndulgentDiscourse
Summary: A bunch of ficlets about Lance with ADHD, based on my own experiences.





	1. Distractions

His stupid hell brain was killing him.

He couldn't focus today for shit- even during training. It was the third time that Keith had slipped under his guard and pinned him.

Pidge jeered from the sideline, their well-meaning heckling grating on his nerves. In Lance's defense, he was thinking about different bonding exercises they could do later, either as a group, or with their Lions.

  
"Keep your shoulder level, Lance, or else he'll flip you every time." Shiro called from the sidelines.

Flashing an appreciative smile, Lance pulled himself to his feet and took his position facing Keith. Shiro called for a start, and the two boys circled each other for a moment. Lance eyed Keith's stance, noting weaknesses and possible ways to exploit them. Keith kept his arms just far enough away from his body that Lance could shoulder his way in... Lance lunged forward, intent on taking his chance when Keith dodged, his long hair sent dancing wildly.

  
Lance was momentarily distracted by the lights shining off of the dark hair of the other boy, but he brushed it off quickly and leapt away from a leg sweep that Keith attempted. Lance's little cousin Alex used to have hair that long... She always let Lance play with it and braid it the way his sisters showed him. Lance wondered if Keith or Allura would let him braid their hair...

  
Lance didn't see the elbow in time. It slammed into his gut, knocking him down, and before he knew it, Keith had him straddled and pinned to the mat. Lance made a last attempt to surge upwards and throw Keith off, but Keith increased pressure on Lance's shoulders, until he had no choice but to tap out.

  
Four-one, Keith won. Shiro called for himself and Pidge to trade places with Keith and Lance. Lance accepted the hand Shiro held out to him with a groan. Shiro clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Try and focus. Estimate where your opponent is going to be, not where they are."

With that piece of already-known knowledge, Lance grit his teeth and sat down beside Hunk, gratefully accepting the offered water bottle.

"Bad focus day?" the other boy asked, already knowing the answer.

Lance nodded tiredly. Hunk patted Lance on the head.

"You'll get him next time, man."


	2. Bouncing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is. Every day at the lunch table, it annoys my friends to no end.

The table was shaking. Nobody said a word.

  
The table was shaking and it was Lance's fault.

They were all seated in the dining room for dinner, and Lance had taken a seat by a leg of the table. With his foot resting on the foot of the table leg, he absentmindedly began to bounce his leg.

Lance didn't notice, but the rest of the team did.

Pidge bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something as the water in her glass danced around.

Hunk tried to get Lance to catch his eye as the silverware rattled.

Lance just kept eating, oblivious to the looks everybody sent him. He was deep in thought, too distracted by his own mind to notice the glare that Keith was pinning him with.

All throughout this, the entire room was silent, save for the tinkling of shaken utensils and the occasional "plip" of water that had splashed too high in its glass.

Keith opened his mouth to break the silence as his spoon shook itself from one side of his bowl to the other, but a light kick from Shiro on his ankle stopped him. Narrowing his eyes, Keith kicked his brother back, harder.

Soon, the sound of pissed-off-table-shaking footsie joined the otherwise quiet room.

Pidge was the one who was brave enough to speak up.

"Hey, Lance, stop shaking the table."

It took a moment for Lance to come back to himself, before he asked, "Wait. I was shaking the table?"

Hunk nodded, well aware that Lance didn't always know what he was doing.

"Yeah man, it was pretty loud."

With one last savage kick that had Shiro gritting his teeth, Keith finally spoke out.

"Yeah, and it was annoying as hell!"

Lance jerked his head to face the other boy. Narrowing his eyes, he placed his foot back on its resting spot, and with a harrowing finality, began to bounce his leg even harder than before.

Everything was now rattling. The table, the dishes, the silverware, everything. The water in Hunk's glass splashed over the edge, and spilled over onto Keith's shoes. Hunk sighed as Keith leapt to his feet.

Just as the screaming match was about to start, Shiro placed himself between his brother and Lance.

"That's enough," he snapped. "Lance, I know you can't help it, but please find some other way to stim. Keith, don't antagonize him."

Significantly cowed, Keith sat back down. Lance dug around in his pocket for a moment before his eyes widened dramatically.

"I lost my fidget cube!" He exclaimed to the group.

Pidge sighed before pulling a tangle out of her pocket. Handing it to Lance, who immediately began twisting it around his fingers, Pidge shrugged.

"You can borrow that one until we find yours, I'll do a scan of the Castle after we eat."

"Thanks, Pidge," Lance said gratefully. "And I'm sorry for," he gestured to the table. "everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith are brothers, sorry I don't make the rules


	3. Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was based on that time my cousin left his psychology book on his kitchen table. Hyperfocus is a trip, my dude.

It had been hours since Lance sat down with the intention to read this.

The bright cover that advertised "How to Clean a Voltron Lion from Tail to Toe!" was pressed down onto the table. Lance was halfway through the manual that was handed to him by Coran.

The Altean had dumped it on him while Lance was listening to music on the lounge.

"Ah! Lance, just the man I was looking for!"

Lance hauled himself to his feet, expecting to be asked to clean the healing pods. Instead, Coran whipped the large manual out from behind his back and dropped it on the table, where it landed with a hearty "thunk". 

"I found all of the manuals from the Paladins of old! This is a good volume to start with, I translated it to your language myself!"

With that, Coran spun on his heel and walked out of the lounge, leaving Lance alone with the massive book.

That was that morning.

Now it was some point in the early evening. It took Lance about an hour to get focused on the manual, but after that he slipped into hyperfocus.

  
It had been six hours since Lance started reading. Since then, the team had had breakfast, individual training, lunch, and was preparing dinner.

Hunk was in the kitchen, working on something close to the alien equivalent of spaghetti. It was rare that he was able to work in peace, without Lance sitting on the counter, chattering about going ons in the Castle, helping Hunk chop ingredients, sticking his finger in the pot (much to Hunk's chagrin).

  
Pidge, true to schedule, wandered in just as Hunk was straining the pasta (it was purple, but he was sure that it would taste fine) and sat at her place at the table. Keith followed soon after, his hair damp from the shower. Allura had been dozing ever since lunch, and she came into the kitchen with a yawn. Coran was on her heels, humming a tune from his military days. Shiro was the last to enter and he took a seat across from Keith, pausing to ruffle his brother's hair as he went. Keith swatted him away, and Pidge snickered across the table at him.

Hunk brought the food to the table, and everybody waited for Lance to appear.

Lance didn't show.

Tapping his fingers on the table, Keith tried not to act impatient. He was pretty hungry, though. Shiro was the one to voice the collective thoughts of the group.

"Where's Lance?", he asked Hunk. The boy shrugged.

"He wasn't in the kitchen with me, and I never saw him around."

"Maybe he's still training," Pidge offered. "We did do our own thing today, it's possible that he's finishing up."

"It's not like Lance to forget when dinner is," Keith countered.

"But," Hunk interjected, "it's possible to loose track of time if you're running from the gladiator."

Coran stroked his mustache pensively.

"Well, I did give him that manual to read this morning, but that was much earlier."

Hunk looked up at Coran, his eyes narrowing as he thought.

"You gave him a manual? On what?"

"On the proper upkeep of the Lions... It was a fairly hearty book, I would be surprised if he even read it."

Hunk looked at Pidge, who nodded. The two rose from the table and set off towards the lounge, walking as quickly as they could.  
The rest of the team scrambled to follow them, concerned as to why they were concerned for Lance.

"Wait! What's going on? Is something wrong?"

Allura caught up to Hunk, gripping his shoulder to try and slow him down.

"Lance's ADHD can cause him to hyperfocus," Hunk explained.

"What is 'hyperfocus'?"Allura asked, clearly confused."I thought his... disorder made it so he can't focus."

Pidge spoke up from Hunk's other side. "An attention disorder is marked by a lack of attention, yes," she panted as she tried to keep up with Hunk's big strides. "But it can also have an effect where he focuses for hours at a time, even neglecting himself. His brain latches onto something and decides it's not going to let him drop it until it's satisfied. Of course, we don't know that that's what's happening right now, but if it is, and he's been there since this morning..."

Pidge trailed off as the group reached the lounge.

Sure enough, Lance was still on the couch, slumped over the manual. He was almost finished with the thick book.

Hunk went to him and called his name.

"Lance? Buddy, come on. Lance. Dude!"

Lance didn't react, he just turned the page and kept reading.

Hunk reached out and gently touched his shoulder. Lance jerked, startled by the touch. Blearily looking up from the book, Lance took in the team, who were anxiously watching him.

"What's up, guys? Is it time for lunch?"

Hunk shook his head while Pidge pulled the manual away, reading the cover.

"No, dude, it's time for dinner."

Confusion flickered over Lance's face. Then he became aware of how stiff he felt for sitting for hours, how hungry and thirsty he was, and how he needed to move, right away, his usual energy flooding back in to him.

  
Dawning realization bloomed on his face.

In a sad voice, he asked Hunk, "Did I slip away again?"

Hunk nodded, but slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry about it, I know it's hard without your meds. Come to dinner, I made spaghetti."

  
With that, the team ate, but Lance ate while walking in circles around the table.


	4. Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I bet y'all can guess why this one is so short....

There are days when Lance can't think.

There are days when a fog seems to settle over everything, and Lance can hardly think because of it.

There are days when the normal buzz of his mind grows so loud that it overpowers everything else until Lance can actually hear it.

It's hard to function on those days, with no medication to help cut through the fog.

Lance feels- no, he knows that he has no choice but to push through on those days. He did it once before, back before his diagnosis.

He can do this.

So the day Lance awakes to a buzzing in his ears and leaden limbs, he knows he has no choice to push himself upright and keep going.

Lance feels like he's been staring at the bucket of cleaning supplies for ages. It's been a minute or two.

He has to clean Blue. He wants to, he really does. He owes that much to her. But he can't seem to make himself lift the bucket, or even to focus on the task at hand.

He can feel Blue rumbling at the back of his head, wondering where he was. It does the trick to snap Lance out of his thousand-yard-stare.   
"Sorry, gorgeous," Lance murmurs. "Got a little lost there."

Lance sighs and chides himself. He can't afford to stay all day in bed. God, why is he so incompetent, he can't even do one small thing like picking something up when it's literally at his feet-

Lance hears Blue's purr in the back of his head.   
" _It's ok,_ " she soothes. " _One day at a time._ "

Lance rubs his eyes with his fists and shakes his head, trying to clear away the buzzing and the fog, frustration building.

Blue purrs again, and Lance feels everything ebb away.

She's right, of course she is. Tomorrow Lance will have a new day, a chance to be and do better.

He picks up the bucket and strides into the hangar, grinning at the sight of Blue, despite his bad mood.

"Hey there, beautiful. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhuuuuugggggggggggh writrrings 
> 
> So I'm gonna try and update once a week, but let's be real... that's probably a lofty goal but school is ending soon, so who knows


	5. Too Much

The marketplace bustled around Lance and the rest of the team. They were stopped on a small trade planet to restock their supplies. Coran went off to find some part for the engines, and Hunk went with him. Pidge, Keith, Shiro, Lance, and Allura went around the rest of the marketplace to look for food items and other necessary things.

  
Lance rubbed his eyes as things began to get slightly faded. It had been a while since he had been in such a dense crowd, and battles didn't count. Blue was soundproof, and protected him from the worst of the noise and heat from battle. But the crowd was right on him, bumping into him and overwhelming him. Lance used to be used to big groups, like his family on holiday gatherings, but they were familiar. Lance had gotten used to the small group in the Castle.

  
Rubbing his eyes to try and stave off the oncoming overstimulation, Lance dropped back to walk next to Pidge. She glanced up at him, ready to keep on pushing her way through the crowd, when Lance's grimace made her falter. 

"What's up?" She asked, sharp eyes noting how Lance buried his hands in his jacket pockets, feeling for something to fidget with. Lance shrugged, feeling around in his pocket. He felt panic beginning to bloom in his chest as his pockets came up empty. Quickly, he began to search different pockets. Lance leaned down to whisper to Pidge.

  
"I'm getting a little overstimulated and I think I left all of my fidget toys on the Castle."

Pidge's eyes widened in understanding and she began glancing around the marketplace. Spotting a stall displaying brightly colored objects that she was eighty percent sure weren't food, she steered Lance over to the stall and called ahead to the rest of the group. 

"Shiro! Allura! Wait up a minute!" The tall man turned back, making his way over to the girl. Pidge quietly relayed the situation to the rest of them, and Keith slipped over to Lance's side.

  
The taller boy was looking at the wares in the shop, his fingers tapping across the table in a rhythm. Keith watched the pattern for a moment before asking, "Is that Morse code?" 

Distracted, Lance looked away from the table.

"Huh?"

Keith shook his head. "You, uh, keep tapping out a beat. Is it anything significant?"

Lance looked at his hands for a moment before smiling at Keith.

"Nah, just something I do to calm myself down."

Keith shrugged and turned his attention to the items for sale. They were brightly colored, with three rings forming a sort of triangle, and in the middle, a smaller circle was there. Keith looked closely at one. It looked like all of the rings were circled around by some sort of lose silicon. Keith held the object up to the bored-looking vendor. 

"Hey, what is this?" 

"A tool to help you grip narrow objects and screw them in place." Lance held the object by the middle ring with his thumb and pointer finger, and flicked it with his other hand. To his surprise, it began to quickly spin, emitting a soft whirring round as the middle of the rings moved in their sockets. Delighted at the sound, he turned to the vendor.   
"How much are these?"

The vendor heaved a deep sigh. "Two gak each. They don't work very well." Lance immediate began to dig in his pockets for his money. 

"I'm getting one for everybody," he muttered to Keith. "They're fun to play with, and I bet that Pidge, Hunk, and Coran could use them for engineering stuff."

Handing over the necessary amount, Lance beamed at the vendor. "I'll take seven!" 

The rest of the trip went without incident, and when they all returned to the castle, the spinning objects were lying outside their doors. There were no notes attached, but no notes were needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowds can be hell sometimes... there's So Much going on that I just kinda space out and let the people I'm with tug me along.
> 
> The objects I'm talking about are those spinny things, I've been seeing them at my school and I really want one


	6. Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A diagnosis is when things start to make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some nerd: you can't project your actual history onto this character! 
> 
> Me, an intellectual desperate for representation and validation: watch me

Lance used to hate school. Like, hate _hate_ it with a passion.

It wasn't that he was stupid, or anything like that. His Mama told him how smart he was all the time, and he knew that he was clever. Lance loves learning, he loves the thrill he feels when something clicks in place and his world gets a little bit bigger. It's part of why he loves space so much, why he applies to the Garrison.

Lance just doesn't like school.

Lance missed fourteen days of elementary school for a stomachache he never even had, because they were doing a project on a topic he didn't understand for those two weeks.

Lance didn't like being graded, or doing homework, probably more than the average kid. Nobody likes to do homework, but in middle school it was nearly impossible for Lance to force himself to sit down, sit still, and do his work.

His grades plummeted. Lance still couldn't force himself to do anything about it.

It drove Lance crazy.

He cared about his grades, he knew how vital they were for getting into the Garrison. He knew he needed to do his work.

He just... couldn't.

Lance and his Mama fought almost every day, arguing over grades, and Lance's "apathy".

Eventually Lance's oldest sister suggested going to a counselor. Maybe Lance could talk through whatever roadblock was keeping him from his schoolwork.

It didn't work.

Until one day, Lance's therapist called his Mama in and had Lance sit out in the hall.

When Lance came back into the room, he was greeted with his Mama trying not to cry, and a new assessment for Lance to fill out.

Two months, three teacher report forms, and one completed assessment later, Lance was diagnosed with ADHD, combined type.

Lance didn't think that he had ADHD. Sure, he could be hyper at times, but he wasn't constantly bouncing off the walls. He was just of of those people who had a lot of energy. Besides, people with ADHD could never pay attention. Lance could, and did frequently.

His therapist explained that he could pay attention to things that interested him, because then his brain was getting the stimulation it wanted. The concept of hyper focus made sense to Lance, but the opposite made even more sense: executive dysfunction. His brain wouldn't be interested in his schoolwork, so it would just kind of clock out. And that made it nearly impossible for Lance to do the work he needed when his brain was actively resisting.

Lance was so happy that there was a reason for why he struggled. He knew he wasn't lazy or stupid, and now he had proof.

Lance would need medication to help him concentrate.

Medication wasn't surprising to Lance. He knew he would need some kind of extra help to overcome his challenges, and his brain couldn't come up with the chemicals itself. He was willing to help it all he could.

But actually taking the meds themselves is different. The little pills looked so innocent in the orange bottle, but Lance heard rumors about them. He was scared that he would become a shadow of his former self, scared that his world would fade away bit by bit and he would be left off worse that he already was.

The meds worked out fine, fortunately.

Lance still struggled in school, but medication helped. He could focus on things easier, he could actually make himself do his schoolwork.

Within three months, Lance pulled up his grades and applied to the Garrison.

Four months, Lance and his Mama stopped fighting so much.

Five months, and Lance was accepted to the Galaxy Garrison.

Lance still loves learning. Space is full of new opportunities, something new every day. Lance is better equipped to handle all of that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the ending being so... Bad lmao 
> 
> Real talk, if you ever feel like how I was describing while on meds, you gotta talk to your doctor about that. Meds are there to help you, not hinder.


	7. Burnt out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao sorry for the super long wait....   
> also I had written this and then completely forgotten about it and I opened up the doc where I write this fic and was like "oh my god I have an entire new chapter" anyways HERE U GO

After a few months on the ship, Lance ran out of his medication. To his surprise, he did alright at keeping things managed. Lance was able to focus during battle, and keep himself engaged in his day-to-day life. He even started trying to learn Altean!

But some things became harder. When he was on his medication, Lance could usually do a decent job of hiding his more obvious and distracting symptoms from the team. But now that he was out of meds, it was getting increasingly harder to hide his symptoms.

Once, during weight training, Lance started a conversation with Hunk, and let it carry on for the better part of an hour, letting his brain carry him from topic to topic. What started out as a discussion of the weights led to the bayards and technology led to cows and space livestock.

Lance let his mind drift off more. He fidgeted more during lectures or meals, and stimmed more obviously. Where beforehand Lance would fiddle with his fidget cube below the table, now Lance would fidget with his cube above the table, while bouncing his leg, with his eyes closed, openly enjoying the sensation and movement.

It wasn't until Coran asked if he was alright that Lance became aware of how his behavior changed.

Lance was embarrassed at how he was letting himself go in front of the team. Quickly stuffing his fidget cube in his pocket, Lance feigned an excuse and left, locking himself in his room.

Later, when everybody was asleep, Lance crept out of his room, making his way down to Pidge's workshop.

Sauntering in, Lance cautiously poked her in the back with a single finger. Pidge turned, nodded a hello, and turned back to her project.

Lance propped his chin on her head.

"Am I bothering you?"

Pidge rolled her eyes up so she could see Lance.

"Yes."

"Sweet."

Pidge cracked her knuckles and stretched her arms out, trying to weakly smack Lance. Snickering, he danced out of range (not far at all) and watched as Pidge went through the process of powering everything down for the night.

"What's up, dude," she asked, well aware that Lance would have a reason for visiting her.

Lance shrugged. He needed to talk to somebody about why he couldn't make himself hide his symptoms anymore, and Pidge was also neurodivergent, she would understand best out of everybody-

Before Lance could overthink it, he started talking.

When he had finished, Pidge shrugged.

"Sometimes we get burnt out. It takes effort to be normal, and you're getting more comfortable with the team. You can let your guard down. You'll be better at hiding it again in a while."

Lance sighed in relief.

"But," Pidge continued, "you don't have to hide. We're your family, you shouldn't have to hide from us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So people who had mental illnesses or the like (autism, ADHD, etc,) basically any disorder that makes you act out of the "normal" and acceptable range of behaviors can get "burnt out" on hiding their natural behaviors in front of other people. It's perfectly normal, because it takes a lot of focus and energy to act neurotypical. 
> 
> Also, I like the headcanons that Pidge is on the autistic spectrum.


	8. Struggling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I updated... I'm changing my update schedule to at least once a month

Lance was screwed and he knew it.

There was a big diplomatic meeting coming up, and Lance needed to learn the basics of the language before then, as it was a polite custom to speak traditional greetings to the monarchs in their own language.

Lance did not learn the things he needed to learn yet, and there were two days left until the meeting.

Allura found out he hadn't done his part yesterday when she called a meeting with everybody to discuss the plans for the meeting.

"Does everybody know the details of their assignment?", she had asked.

Shiro was in charge of patrolling the premises of the royal manor, where the meeting would be held. Hunk and Keith would be doing intersecting patrols of circles around the manor in their Lions. Pidge would be escorting Allura while she was in the meeting, and Lance would be additional security within the manor, keeping an eye out for saboteurs behind the scenes.   
But they all had to stop and pay their respects to the monarchs of the planet, as per tradition, for allowing them to be guests on the planet.

Lance still hadn't learned the required saying.

Allura was not happy, needless to say.

"What do you mean, you haven't learned your part yet?!"

Lance didn't know how to explain to her why it wasn't done yet.

Every time that Lance would sit down to work on it, he couldn't focus. Without his meds, it was really hard just to do stuff that he liked doing- how was he supposed to handle stuff that he was being almost forced to do? He even liked doing diplomatic missions the best: people were easier to deal with than the chaos of a battle.

Lance knew he was slacking on important stuff. Lance knew he was letting down the team. Lance knew he wasn't doing good enough, nobody knew better than him.

He didn't need it to be yelled at him in front of everyone.

Lance knew that Allura knew that he had ADHD. But why did she have to continue to treat him like this when she knows that he has a hard time doing stuff?

"Paladins, dismissed, except for Shiro and Lance."

Lance was lost in thought until the dismissal, and watched sulkily as Allura confided with Shiro in hushed whispers for a moment.

Shiro beckoned Lance over once the two broke apart, but Lance almost couldn't make himself walk the small gap. He could already see the disappointment in their eyes. This was it, this was when they were gonna tell him to leave Voltron and Blue-

"Lance," Shiro began, "you really need to do this. I know it might be tricky for you, but the team really needs this. The Voltron alliance needs the support of these monarchs in order to make the next push against the Galra. I know you might think that the tradition is a little old fashioned, but..."

Lance didn't listen to the rest of the lecture. Tricky for him? That was an understatement, to say the least. If Lance's brain wasn't interested in doing something, and without his meds, it was almost impossible for Lance to force himself to do the necessary action. Lance had tried to sit himself down and make himself learn it, but then something would inevitably distract him. Once, after finding a deserted corner of the castle, with literally nothing to distract him, Lance found himself staring at the wall and wondering about the architecture of the Castle, and then trends in architecture, and then alien architecture trends... before he knew it, an hour had passed and he still didn't know his part.

Lance simmered as Shiro finished the lecture and sent him off. Allura would be checking on his progress later, so he would have to find some way to learn it in a few hours. An unlikely task.

Looks like Lance would be pulling another all-nighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adhd can have real damaging effects on people's lives, and this is just one of the ways.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some less-know problems with ADHD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! 
> 
> I swear I haven't abandoned this fic!!  
> I've just started my first year of college, so it's really hard for me to get into a routine that'll allow me to write regularly. 
> 
> But on the upside, I've got about 4 different chapters that I've started that I'm working on when I find the time and motivation. I'm really sorry I didn't update last month, hopefully I'll be back in track again. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy!

Despite having a diagnosis, Lance still had to figure quite a few things out about ADHD on his own.

Some things were easier to figure out than others. Memory issues? Check. Impulsivity? A no-brained. Hyper activeness? Literally part of the name.

Other things, not so much.

The doctor never told Lance that ADHD made it harder for him to regulate and control his emotions.

It took several years and the support of Hunk to google the less common side affects of ADHD- struggles with emotional regulation, volume control issues, rejection-sensitive-dysphoria... and, a quite literally, not-yet-fully-developed brain. Turns out that the ADHD brain was about three years less matured than the neurotypical person.

The emotional regulation issues made it hard for Lance growing up. He remembered times when he would get so angry, or upset at something that all he could do was have screaming fits, even at the ages of ten, eleven, even up to twelve. His Mama said he was way too old to throw fits like a baby, and he was. Lance was so embarrassed, looking back on those memories, but now they made sense.

It was for similar reasons he used to fight with Keith so much.

The other boy just got under his skin in a way that Lance had never dealt with before. Lance had needed an outlet for all the angry, anxious energy rushing through his body, so he would impulsively lash out at Keith before he had a chance to focus and do something about his emotions.

Lance was getting better, though. As he aged, it got easier to articulate what he was feeling and work out a healthy way of expressing them. Between Coran, Hunk, and Shiro, he had people he could go to to help with his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am definitely projecting my own past experiences onto Lance, which is a little embarrassing to admit, but as long as I can help people bettering understand ADHD then it is totally worth it!


End file.
